


The Symbolism of Rain

by Blood_Sucker_1428



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Meet-Cute, Mycroft-centric, Rain, Sassy Anthea, future Mythea, getting caught out in the rain, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_Sucker_1428/pseuds/Blood_Sucker_1428
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University AU: Mycroft is walking to class when it starts raining heavily. The only shelter is a gazebo that a girl is already waiting under. To be forced to socialise or to get soaking wet and possibly get sick? That’s a difficult question. Mythea prompt given to me on Tumblr.</p>
<p>Prompt: College Mythea AU (obvs they’re similar ages, AU) that gives a reason for Mycroft to start carrying an umbrella all the time. Maybe it starts pouring and he runs into a gorgeous stranger and they uselessly share some newspaper to get to class… I dunno. You’re the Sherlock fanfiction writer!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Symbolism of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I was begging for prompts on Tumblr again and this came up. It was suggested by brittasdrawingboard on Tumblr so it’s dedicated to them. AU isn’t something I do often so this was another nice chance for me to stretch myself a little bit. Tell me what you think of it, I absolutely adore hearing people’s opinions. Please read, comment, and enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Clearly I don’t own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

There are many things that rain can symbolise. In most cases rain represents sorrows and a forlorn feeling, as it can often be referred to as the tears of the heavens. In drought related areas it can also represent relief or rebirth, the coming of rain revitalises the land. For some, if rain is not completely uncommon but also not in abundance, it can represent happiness. To Mycroft Holmes it represented none of this. It was merely a meteorological annoyance, having occurred as he was halfway to his next class while he was in the middle of the almost shelter free courtyard.

As he felt the rain dripping down his neck and down his back, wetting his shirt and jacket, Mycroft scanned the courtyard for any shelter at all. He found a gazebo about one hundred metres away. He could reach it before getting entirely soaked to the bone. The problem with that idea is he could see someone already running for it. Judging by the fact that the rain was getting heavier and heavier with no sign of relenting he’d be stuck under the gazebo with this person for a long time and would most likely be engaged in small talk. Mycroft Holmes did not do small talk, he despised it actually. Maybe if he kept walking he’d find some cover further in the distance…

The rain increased tenfold, hitting Mycroft’s shoulders hard and blurring his vision. Looks like he didn’t have a choice after all. With a heavy sigh he ran for the only conceivable cover.

By the time he reached the gazebo Mycroft’s jacket was soaked and did nothing to protect his temperature nor keep him dry. He took it off to protect his shirt getting soaked and gave it a shake out, watching water droplets fly off of it. His silver eyes caught eye of a girl bend over, shaking rain out of her dark curls. She stood back up and flicked her hair back into place, running a hand through it to correct her part. Her dark eyes caught Mycroft’s and she smiled knowingly, most likely at the fact that they both looked like drowned rats. She didn’t engage in conversation, merely took off her backpack and plonked it in front of her. She bent down searching for something. Silence continued for five minutes as she kept digging through her bag for something, biting her bottom lip in the most curious matter. Eventually she surfaced with _Murder on the Orient Express_. She opened it and began reading. His own curiosity satiated, Mycroft pursed his lips and stared out into the curtain that was the rain falling on the university grounds.

Another ten minutes past. Mycroft had officially gone from being a little early to class to running late. He hummed to himself as he stared at the rain, deciding that it had indeed weakened slightly but not enough to show any signs of stopping any time soon. He turned to look at the brunet girl, still reading. She showed no signs of being bothered by the rain. She looked up, feeling Mycroft’s eyes on her, and gave him another of those small, strange little smiles before turning back to her book. Hang on a second.

 “Aren’t you in the class I am currently late for?” He asked, tilting his head and looking her over. Surely he’d looked over his shoulder at some annoying laughter in the lecture theatre to see that small smile with a group of cackling girls. The girl quirked an eyebrow and looked up from her book.

 “Yeah, I am.” Her smile grew to show a little bit of teeth. “You’re the guy who never brings any notebooks to class, not even the novel wear studying, barely pays attention and still gets one hundred percent.” Mycroft pursed his lips and shrugged.

 “One read though of the book and I already know all possible meanings. The reason for turning up for class is to find out what reading the lecturer wants us to take away from it.” The girl stifled a laugh, turning back to her book. “I’m-”

 “Mycroft, I know.” She answered, not looking up. “The lecturer does take the role every class.” Mycroft turned back to look at the rain falling down. This girl was intriguing, she certainly wasn’t shy. “And you would be?” He asked, not looking her way.

 “Umm.” She squinted into her book. “Anthea.” Mycroft frowned and turned to face her.

 “There’s no Anthea in that class.” She looked up, dark eyes meeting steel. “There is an _Andrea_.” The girl gained a mischievous smile, crinkling her nose in the process.

 “Just seeing if you do pay any attention.” Mycroft tried his best to hide the smile that threatened to take over his face.

 “Is that so?” He hummed, folding his arms. “I hope you know I’m going to have to call you Anthea now.” Andrea, or _Anthea_ closed her book, holding it to her chest.

 “No one’s going to have any clue as to why you’re doing that.” Her voice was full of humour. Mycroft nodded to her book.

 “You’re reading Agatha Christie, I thought you’d be up for a little bit of mystery.” She laughed again, a soft chuckle, and turned to look at the rain. Mycroft followed suit and the two lulled into silence, watching the rain encompass everything around them.

They were now twenty minutes late for the two hour class. This was bordering on unacceptable. Mycroft ran his tongue over his top row of teeth as he tried to come up with any possible solution that didn’t involve getting soaked to the bone and possible give him a cold. Anthea looked into the rain and sighed, still clutching her book into her chest.

 “It’s not going to let up, is it?” She asked. Mycroft shook his head.

 “Not in the foreseeable future.” He mumbled. Anthea sighed and crouched back down to her bag. “I’ve been searching for all possible actions I, or we, could take but there is not enough surrounding shelter to ensure we get to class dry.” Anthea pulled out her lever and arch file. “Not to mention if we turn up looking even more than drowned rats than we already do they won’t let us into the lecture theatre and- What are you doing?” Mycroft watched as Anthea pulled out all her notes, assessments, and such out of her file and shoved them into her backpack. She stood up and held the empty file open like a newspaper, a very proud look on her face.

 “I’ve created us some cover.” She smiled. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow and looked at the brunette as if she was insane. Anthea held it above her head proudly demonstrating what she meant, as if he didn’t already know that. “See, we can use it as an umbrella.” Mycroft raised his eyebrows.

 “No, I can see that.” He hummed. “I’m merely contemplating how insane you have to be to come up with something like that.” The girl rolled her eyes.

 “I’m sorry Mr. Smarter-than-everyone-else, did you want to get to class, or not?” It was Mycroft’s turn to roll his steel coloured eyes and click his tongue as he stepped forward.

 “Pass it here.” He sighed.

 “What?”

 “I’m taller than you, if I hold it above my head and you walk directly in front of me I can shield us both.” Anthea mimed an ‘oh’ and handed over the stupid file.

 “Well done, you’ve earned your nickname now.”

 “I’m beside myself with joy.”

The two successfully got to class only a tad wetter and with Anthea’s file destroyed. Anthea returned to her seat up the back with her group of very loud, very annoying friends, and Mycroft returned to being the guy at the front who ignores everyone and everything. By the time class had let up so had the rain. Life continues.

That is until the following lesson when both Anthea and Mycroft had tried to be funny. When he got to the lecture theatre Mycroft could already see Anthea at the back with her friends. He walked up, shopping bag in hand. He stood in the row bellow them and cleared his throat. Anthea looked across at him, matching his own arrogant smirk.

 “Hello, _Anthea_.” He greeted, causing her friends to gain the most confused look and that was worth it alone. Anthea quirked an eyebrow.

 “Well, hello Mr. Smarty-pants.” She grinned.

 “I came with a gift since you sacrificed the life of your file to get us here last week.” Mycroft pulled the brand new lever and arch file out of the shopping bag and handed to Anthea. Anthea threw her head back and cracked up laughing, leaving her friends even more confused.

 “How funny.” She smiled, leaning over. “I also got you a gift so then you’re not forced to socialise and learn people’s names.” She surface back up and handed Mycroft an umbrella. It was a talk, black umbrella with a wooden handle. He nodded in approval as he turned it over in his hands.

 “Sophisticated. Thank you.”

 “You’re welcome.”  The two smiled at each other. Mycroft cleared his throat.

 “I best be returning to my seat.” He nodded.

 “Have fun being a loner.”

 “Have fun being annoying.”

As he returned to his seat Mycroft heard Anthea’s friend mutter “Did I miss something?”

 “Nah, just a private joke. He’s not bad, he’s kind of funny.”

* * *

 

The rain thrashed down on the black umbrella as Mycroft walked to class at a comfortable speed, thinking over the previous class lessons. They had a test on symbolism in the books they have studied in the class so far and he was remember just what meanings the lecturer had expected them to get from each metaphor and well place flower or ray of sunshine. His eyes fell on the gazebo about one hundred metres in front of him. Within he could see the very familiar sight of a figure bending over to shake out their curls. He sniffed a laugh to himself and made his way over to the shelter.

 “Hello.” Mycroft hummed as he reached the shelter. The figure shot up, a look of confusion and annoyance melting into a sly smile.

 “Well, hello.” Anthea greeted back cheekily.

 “Would you like someone to accompany you to class or would you rather ruin your filing system yet again?” Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at the brunette who was now shaking off the collar of her jacket.

 “You know, I got you that so you didn’t have to socialise.” Mycroft nodded.

 “Indeed you did, and it has been very successful at doing so.” He watched as she gave up on her jacket, took it off and shoved it into her backpack. “However, I still owe you one sheltered walk to class in return.” Her eyes narrowed, and that mischievous look, the one that made her nose crinkle, came onto her face.

 “You can’t stand the idea of owing someone something or someone having a one-up on you can you?”

 “Oh absolutely not.” He shook his head. Anthea laughed a beautiful laugh and nodded.

  “Alright, fine, thank you.” She picked her backpack back up, slung it over one shoulder, and joined Mycroft under his umbrella. “This must be hard for you,” She mused as they walked. “Talking to inferior beings.”

 “No, you’re not bad, you’re kind of funny.” He used Anthea’s own words on her. She elbowed Mycroft as she scoffed.

 “So this test on symbolism, smarty-pants… What are your opinions on the symbolism of rain?”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did we think of this? Alright? Feel free to give me other prompts on Tumblr or go have a look at some of my other Mythea and/or Kidlocks on my profile. Either way, let me know what you thought of this and thanks for reading!


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